forward 16I\'m not torn,forward 16
Just bent, Just born,
And just spent,
Standing in a storm, Waiting for the lighting, Searching for someplace warm, And a little less frightening,
These EndsEnveloped in a cloak of night, In a metropolis where every wrong seem chillingly right, We’re a bit wide of the mark, Falling in among the desperate and stark,These Ends
We’re just living an end, Some are still strong, And some like to pretend, We’re just living our end, Just living our end,
These weaker ones seek a chemical salvation, A lesser form of emancipation, It’s relentlessly raining,
The churches abandoned religion is waning,
We’re just living the end, Some are still strong And some like to pretend, We’re just living our end,
Devious Journal Entry
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